Interlude
by hardly loquacious
Summary: Standing in front of her, Jane suddenly realized that breaking might not be the worst thing in the world. After the Cole Foster-Marie Flannigan case, both Lisbon and Jane try to deal with what almost happened. Post-ep (and spoilers) for 7.02.


A/N: So I am apparently post-epping again. This one is less fully formed than the last one, I think. But the images were stuck in my head, so again, they got written down. Spoilers for 7.02, obviously. Enjoy!

Interlude

xxx

It was something of a relief to be back in her own home.

Away from the anger, the resentment, the overabundance of orange at the women's prison.

Away from murder without remorse, from guns being pointed at her head and from the near-certainty of death that followed.

For a few hours, Lisbon had let the hum of the FBI bullpen wash over her, soothe her with its familiar noise.

It had made her feel a little less alone. But the hum of strangers hadn't really been what she'd wanted.

Part of her had regretted imposing secrecy to her relationship with Jane. Not that she was entirely sure it would have made much difference. Since coming back to the FBI headquarters, he'd been keeping an entirely respectable distance from her (quite possibly for the first time in years). When he'd looked at her, there'd been no secret smile in his eyes, no special something that was just for her.

And he hadn't touched her once. Not even a hand on her waist as he opened a door for her.

She understood.

It must be quite a thing to watch your girlfriend almost get shot in front of you, to think you were going to get shot with her.

And given Jane' history...

Lisbon shook her head and went to pour herself a glass of water, more for something to do than anything else.

She'd briefly considered staying late at work, just for the distraction. But she hadn't really wanted to. Besides, Abbott had all but ordered her home to relax.

She did need to decompress, to find some perspective, or something. Anyway, she wasn't sure strategizing over Erica Flynn would be the distraction she was looking for.

That was what (or who) Jane had apparently been puzzling over when she'd left. Erica Flynn, the challenge he could never resist, the puzzle he hadn't quite solved.

A woman with danger of a different kind.

Lisbon didn't know what Jane was thinking. She didn't know what his plans were, long or short-term.

She missed him.

And even though she was out of the jail cell, the walls felt like they were closing in on her all the same.

xxx

Patrick Jane wasn't at the FBI.

He was in the airstream.

Better place for deep thinking, obviously.

And not just because Abbott had started to give him odd looks every time he walked by the bullpen and noticed Jane still on his couch.

Jane ignored the familiar twinge of guilt (and something else), and turned his attention back to the file in front of him. As distractions went, Erica Flynn wasn't a bad one. There was ample opportunity for strategizing when dealing with a woman like her. In fact, strategy was absolutely necessary.

Jane knew he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by the idea of facing Erica again. They had something of a score to settle. Best out of three, as it were. And he'd always enjoyed a challenge.

So yes, Erica Flynn was far more fun to dwell on than anything else currently taking up space in his brain.

Jane closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory of the eyes that were really haunting him.

She'd almost _died_. (He had too, but that was almost incidental.)

She'd almost been killed.

Between her job and his crazy plan... The slash of pain through his chest had him almost gasping as he clenched his fists.

Jane didn't know what he'd do if something ever did... If he couldn't see her every day...

He needed her safe, and she couldn't promise that. Not only because of her job. He wasn't unfair enough to expect that promise, anyway. He just, he didn't know what to do about his, this sudden fear. He was scared to face it, scared to face her, scared she'd break him. And he didn't know what to say to her about any of it.

It was a problem without a solution. It was why he'd rather think about Erica. She probably had a solution, if only he could find it.

The attempt kept his mind off the blind terror.

He didn't know how to deal with the uncertainty, the...

Physical danger was probably old hat to Lisbon by now. She was probably used to it, to putting it away, to dealing with it (he ignored the part of his brain that pointed out that she often didn't _deal,_ she _buried_). Jane's mind flashed back to her face in the field earlier that day, sadness and worry and fear, but no judgement.

No blame. Her gaze had been clear of that.

She'd been frightened, terrified really... She might still be, the after-effects of her undercover assignment only starting to surface now that her world was calm.

And he'd, he'd _left her alone._

Jane dropped his head in his hands.

Whatever the solution to their problem, surely it wasn't _that._

xxx

Curled up in a corner of her couch, Lisbon wrapped herself in a throw, suddenly freezing. She'd already taken a shower so hot it had almost burned her skin. She considered making herself a cup of tea, but decided that she didn't want to (that might make it worse).

She understood that he probably needed time to sort through things. They probably both did.

She wasn't angry.

She just, she missed her boyfriend.

Pulling the blanket around her shoulders more tightly, Lisbon glanced at her phone on the coffee table next to her.

She wanted to call him, to hear his voice. But he might need more time. She would give it to him.

And not just because the only thing worse than a too-quiet apartment would be Jane telling her that he was overwhelmed and maybe they needed a couple of days apart.

Not that she was sure that was what he was thinking.

Not that...

She glanced at her phone again, wondering when she'd become this woman.

Lisbon's mouth tightened. Because this was the woman she chose to be. The woman who admitted (at least to herself) that she was head over heels in love with a difficult man. And that even if he was difficult (and she was difficult), she was certain Jane was worth it. Even if a few things were a bit of a mess, she was still sure in that choice.

She was reaching for her phone when she heard the knock.

Heart beating fast, she opened the front door and found a nervous-looking Jane.

"Hi," she whispered.

His eyes started scanning her the second she came into view, finding her freshly showered, snuggled in a blanket, legs bare, and whole. _Whole._ "Hi," he replied.

For a moment, Jane just continued to stare. Then he remembered himself. "Can I come in?"

Lisbon found a smile. "Of course." She opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him pass.

Aching to touch her, Jane didn't take advantage of the extra space, instead angling his body so close to hers, his jacket brushed her blanket as he slid past her. A suppressed gasp had his eyes snapping to hers. The sadness and hope he saw there had him cursing his own weakness. She looked fragile, breakable, and that was the one thing that was not allowed. He'd always been helpless against it the rare times he saw it. Her eyes in the field earlier... He'd barely been able to touch her afterwards, afraid that if he did, he'd break and never let her go.

Standing in Lisbon's entryway, Jane suddenly realized that maybe breaking might not be the worst thing in the world. Holding her forever certainly wouldn't be. She needed comfort (and so did he). Shifting slightly closer, he slid a hand to her waist and watched her eyes light up. That calmed him slightly.

Lisbon let the door shut behind her as Jane moved further into her personal space. Oh she'd missed this, and it had barely been three days since she'd last been able to touch him. But it had felt longer. And now she had the warmth of his hand on her body to make her house feel less cold. "I was just going to call you," she admitted, forcing herself to lower her guard a little.

Jane tried to focus on the thread of happiness he could hear in her voice, and not his own warring emotions threatening to send him out of control.

"Working late on the Erica Flynn case?" Lisbon asked, when he didn't reply.

Jane shut his eyes briefly, and slid his hand further along her waist, trying not to break... either of them. "I can't talk about it," he whispered.

Lisbon didn't ask him what he meant, her heart suddenly beating fast.

"Not yet," Jane clarified. "I..."

Lisbon nodded, and lifted a hand to his cheek. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about it either. Not right now. She just wanted him near.

Jane shut his eyes briefly, and gently drew her closer to him. I'm sorry."

Lisbon shook her head against his shoulder as she leant against him, anxious to offer some reassurance of her own. "We don't have to talk about it now. Were making the rules up as we go along, remember?"

Jane's arms tightened compulsively, before he reminded himself to be gentle. He shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry I almost got you killed."

Lisbon's head snapped up from her attempts to snuggle against his shoulder. _"What?"_

Jane sighed. "Abbott was going to bring you in earlier. _I_ was the one who suggested breaking you out of prison. _I_ was the one who..."

"It was a good plan, Lisbon ordered. "It's my job, and I knew the risks all along."

"I..."

"Are not to blame," Lisbon finished. "So shut it."

Jane dropped his head on her shoulder, breathing in her body wash. "Really don't want to talk about it now," he muttered against her skin.

"Not your fault," she insisted, shifting back into his chest. Because while she didn't want a discussion, there was one thing that had to be said, repeatedly if necessary. "_Not _your fault."

"Don't know what I'd do if..." Jane trailed off, shaking his head.

Lisbon's heart cracked. "I know. I'm _okay_. I..." But there was nothing else to say, particularly if neither of them were ready to talk (and she certainly wasn't handing in her resignation tomorrow as a way of addressing the issue). "Jane, why _did _you come here?"

Wordlessly, he tangled his fingers in hers, before sliding his hands up to her shoulders, and back down, drawing her closer with each pass. He'd come because he'd needed to be close to her, to be reassured and to reassure, even if only non-verbally.

Lisbon wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "Not your fault, she murmured, happily seeking out Jane's body heat.

She didn't know how long he was planning on staying, but while he was here... It was so nice to feel safe.

Jane trailed his hands along her back, one hand tangling in the over-sized t-shirt she wore, as the other one reached up to tuck her blanket more firmly around her shoulder. He frowned as his fingers grazed skin. Why was she so cold? He tried to tuck the blanket even more securely around her before giving up and wrapping his body around hers instead, trying to transfer as much as his own body heat as possible. "Wanted you," he murmured. "Wanted to see you, to..." He squeezed tighter.

He wanted to hold her all night. Scratch that, he _was _going to holder her all night. He'd make sure she got some sleep, and as she did, he'd hold her to him, keep her warm, keep her...

Neither of them could guarantee forever, but at least tonight...

Lisbon sighed happily as she slid her arms under his jacket, burrowed into the cocoon of warmth he was helping to create. "Yeah," she agreed. "Glad you're here." God, she'd missed him. She'd really missed him Though how you missed someone you'd seen only hours before...

Jane tried to keep his hold light so as not to rock the sudden calm between them, until he realized Lisbon had no such scruples. The woman was practically squeezing his ribcage. He gave up all pretence and wrapped himself around her, glorying in her little gasp of pleasure, and taking comfort in the fact that while she _was_ breakable, she was also strong, and tough, and stubborn, and that was a lot. She was also human, and just as she was his comfort, he should be... He sighed against her hair. "I'm sorry."

Lisbon let out a growl of frustration (the ache inside her had just been starting to fade). "_I told you_, it wasn't..."

Jane interrupted her. "Not for _that_," he clarified (though he was still sorry for not being able to save her earlier). For not being.."

Lisbon squeezed her eyes tight and tried to focus on his arms around her. "Jane?" she whispered after a second.

"You shouldn't have to..." he tried to explain.

"To what?" she prompted again.

Jane gave up. He didn't know how to talk about it yet. "I'm here," he promised instead.

Lisbon's quiet cry echoed between them. And Jane's hold became crushing. He _wasn't_ letting her go.

Lisbon didn't know how long he'd stick, but...

His voice whispered beside her ear again, more urgent this time. "I'm here."

The repeated promise released the tension she hadn't realized she'd still been holding.

As Lisbon dropped against him, Jane finally felt some of his own tension release.

He was there, she was there, _they_ were...

They just _were._

Right now, that was enough.

xxx

The end


End file.
